


FE Rarepair Week 2019: Lorenz x Lysithea

by Madampringle



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anxiety, Cats, Comfort, Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Domestic Fluff, Everybody lives except Edelgard and Rhea, F/M, FE Rarepair Week 2019, Fire, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gathering, Hot Cocoa, It's for plot reasons i'm sorry, Kissing, Married Couple, Other students will be mentioned, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pumpkins, Verdant, change, fear of infertility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-07 20:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madampringle/pseuds/Madampringle
Summary: “I’ve never seen so many Pumpkins before.”It was the almost child-like wonder in her voice that always found a way to make his heart skip a beat. Beyond that, there was a sense of pride within him at her sound observation. Even the prospect of being able to show her something as simple as one of the many pumpkin patches on Gloucester territory brought a sense of satisfaction to his person.A collection of a week of post-timeskip one-shots for my favorite Three Houses rarepair. Autumn/Fall theme prompts abound!Day 1: PumpkinsDay 2: Hot CocoaDay 3: CatsDay 4: GatheringDay 5: FireDay 6: ChangeDay 7: Verdant





	1. Pumpkins

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is going to be my first time participating in a fandom writing week, but I'm extremely excited to spread some love for my favorite Fire Emblem Three Houses pairing. Each of the prompts are Autumn related, so expect some warmth, comfort, fluff and happiness all around. These two deserve it, they really do.
> 
> As always, enjoy the content, and feel free to hit me up if you ever want to gush about LysLor. Cause I sure want to.
> 
> This week is hosted by @ferarepair-week, go check out the other amazing collections for this raprepair week! :)
> 
> Day 1: Pumpkins

“I’ve never seen so many Pumpkins before.”

It was the almost child-like wonder in her voice that always found a way to make his heart skip a beat. Beyond that, there was a sense of pride within him at her sound observation. Even the prospect of being able to show her something as simple as one of the many pumpkin patches on Gloucester territory brought a sense of satisfaction to his person.

As much as Lysithea preferred not to express her feelings on these matters, Lorenz found the widening of her eyes and the dusting of pink on her cheeks from the Wyvern Moon wind to be tremendously endearing.  That she was willing to show such open wonder without hesitation in front of him, that was more meaningful to him than anything else. 

“This is around the time they will be harvested. Most will be used for seasonal foods and desserts, though some farmers have made a competition of who can grow the largest pumpkins. The reasoning behind it escapes me...though, if it pleases and entertains the people, then I would not interject.”

Lorenz turned to look at his lover, a flicker of comfort in his eyes as he continued.

“And you are certain that this is the patch you want to choose from, Lysithea? I know of many others that are just as bountiful. What has drawn you to this one?”

Lysithea’s eyes locked with his for a moment, the rich pink hues making his heart thump as they always did when they trained on him. The expressions she wore were always so unique, always so indicative of her character. He could look into her eyes all day, and yet his warming thoughts were interrupted by her chiming voice.

“One of the mages I worked with during my studies with Hanneman told me about her family’s farm in Gloucester. I suppose I had always wanted to make it a point to visit it, support her and her family’s work the way she supported me and my work...and this farm has white pumpkins too.”

Lorenz felt a small tremor of humor rise in his chest at the almost hesitant and embarrassed admission of the younger woman. Lysithea, even now, still always hated to sound as youthful as she physically was. As aggressive as she could be about it, years of adaptation had softened her sharp exterior. Lorenz found it far more rewarding to let her reveal her energetic observations on her own whims, rather than to coax it out of her as Claude or Hilda tended to.

“If I may ask, my dear Lysa, is there a reason you have a preference of color?”

“If you must know.” Lysithea’s tone to any other would have possibly sounded affronted, yet Lorenz knew her far better than that. The slight uptilt of her lips, the flash in her eyes, the shifting of her shoulders to face him fully, were all signs of her way of banter. A special language between them that had developed over the course of their relationship.

“I want a white pumpkin because I know everyone’s going to be choosing the orange ones. As practical as it may be to follow old traditions, perhaps I want to be different. Besides, Claude’s Wyvern is white, and...my hair as well, is also white.”

Lorenz’s small smile faltered for a moment, as flashes of recent memories danced in his head. Of the painstaking process of removing the crests that had burned in Lysithea’s body. While they had succeeded in finding a cure for her, it had seemed the pigmentation of her hair was to be lost forever. While it may have seemed like an issue hardly worth mentioning, Lorenz knew it was not so simple. For even the color of one’s hair was a part of one’s identity. 

Of all the aspects of her body that the mages had taken away, her hair was one of the sensitive topics, beyond the loss of her siblings and temporary threat to her lifespan. She had once told him, months ago, that losing her hair color had made her feel like a shell of her former self. A ghost in a child’s body, nothing but a reminder of the horrendous experiments she had been forced to endure.  So to hear her state her intentions of choosing a pumpkin based upon the color of her hair, Lorenz could tell this was more meaningful that a simple hunt for a proper holiday gourd or a dessert ingredient. He blinked steadily, moving away from his horse’s side to step closer to his wife.

She had to tilt her head up to look at him, though in her gaze he could see a sense of courage and decision. Lorenz studied her silently, as she seemed to understand that as an admission to further explain her choice.

“I’ve come to realize, for the longest time I hated the color of my hair. When it brushed my face, or tangled near my mouth...what it meant, what it reminded me of. But now...I contemplated so many things, especially after we found the cure and during my internship and studies. Before we were married, and even now.” 

He watched her gaze travel downwards, seeming to observe him from top to bottom, each pristine crease of his dark and royal violet silks, each thread of dark wool woven into his cloak, a matching article to her own to stifle the chilling winds. Lorenz found himself preening under her gaze, though more so he felt a sense of yearning, to take in every word of admission she was clearly revealing to him. A new development in the interwoven story of the beautiful and powerful Lysithea. His beloved Lysa.

Lorenz did not need to speak, more so revealing his intent to listen and understand by reaching his hands up to hold hers with a gentle yet steady grasp. Lysithea did not fight the motion, instead leaning into it, clasping her fingers and palms around his gloved fingers. Upon the crest of the hill, overlooking the sea of orange and white and green, they faced eachother in a moment all their own.

“And now, all I can think about is all I’ve worked for...all we worked for, you and the others. The battles we’ve fought, the Wars we’ve won. I’ve come to accept that the color of my hair is now a part of me that I can’t change. That is alright though, because now I know I’m going to live. I’m going to live and learn so much, preferably with you at my side.”

Her bold smile sent flares of emotion through him, and Lorenz felt an astounding amount of pride and love for the courage and wisdom of the woman whose hands he held in his own. The aforementioned white locks rippled in the Wyvern Moon winds, tracing her face in a sea of snowy white. 

_ Goddess, she was beautiful. _

“And If I’m going to live, I’m going to have to remind myself that it’s just white. That’s all it is, and it means more than painful memories. The first time I saw the Ethereal Moon snow from the window of the Estate...or when we heal people, and help take away their pain, and our magic is a brilliant white and…”

Lorenz could see her eyes fall with embarrassment and exasperation, a flash of doubt crossing her face in a way that made the nobleman’s chest ache.

“I’m sorry. All this philosophy and talk of myself, over the color of a silly little pumpkin…”

“Never apologize for feeling a desire to speak about such difficult and painful memories, certainly when you’re telling them to me. I would listen to your words as if they were scripture...and I would admire your strength, to be able to see a symbol of pain become a symbol of strength.”

Lysithea rose her head once more, the drooping of her eyelids contrasted with the burning gratitude and care that filled her eyes. Her fingers tightened, as her cheeks bloomed, rosy and red. She lifted one of his hands, placing her lips to the dark gloves in a featherlight kiss. The touch nearly unnoticeable yet sending color to his face nonetheless. Lowering his hand, she took a step closer.

“I want a white pumpkin, because I don’t want to be afraid of anything. Not anymore. I want to be who I am. And who I am is telling me to get a white pumpkin.”

After a moment of closeness, the warm air between them cooled off once again as Lysithea reluctantly pulled her hands back. After all, even with nothing but fields of pumpkins between them, the public feeling lingered. Lorenz could agree that these kinds of moments were better reserved for private locations, as much as he yearned to keep his hands clasped with hers.

His fingers remained warm, even in the whistling breeze, and he felt a chuckle escape his lips as he sighed warmly.

“Well, then we’ll just have to find the perfect white pumpkin for you. I do want to pick up a few orange ones though. I suppose Claude would have our heads for being discriminative of the colors of pumpkins.”

Lysithea rolled her eyes with a sharp snort, swatting harmlessly at Lorenz’s sleeve as she retorted.

“Claude can get his own pumpkins, of all sizes and shapes and colors. Come on, it’s getting cold, and I want to find one before the sun goes down...and…”

“And?”

Lysithea’s eyes flickered meekly towards his once more, a hint of pleading in the pink depths.

“And we can get some pumpkin pie too?”

Lorenz blinked fondly, stepping into place at her side as he lead her down through the fields of his homeland.

“I would be affronted if we didn’t, Lysithea.”


	2. Hot Cocoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If she was a realist, he was a dreamer, and neither could really be complete without the other. She preferred this lifestyle, the calamity and freedom to explore her studies without having to be stuck in a spotlight. Lorenz was always better at showing his face to the world, singing his words and blazing a path he had finally found on his own. Together, she knew they existed in a comfortable balance and danced on the line of light and dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Hot Cocoa!
> 
> I loooove hot chocolate, so you all already know I'm about to go ham on this one. Stay warm, and stay happy :)

Snow was always a sight to behold, both in beauty and chilling power alike. Lysithea liked to think about how each snowflake fell down, hardly a difference in size and shape from afar...and yet, if one got closer and looked harder, they would be able to see the intricate angles and delicate patterns of crystalline splendor.

Hah. Lorenz’s poetic antics were starting to rub off on her. Not that she minded all too much. She had come to grow fond of his surprisingly intelligent word play, the poetry that seemed to dance around his mind and spill from his mouth until a new song was created, a new story unfolded.

If she was a realist, he was a dreamer, and neither could really be complete without the other. She preferred this lifestyle, the calamity and freedom to explore her studies without having to be stuck in a spotlight. Lorenz was always better at showing his face to the world, singing his words and blazing a path he had finally found on his own. Together, she knew they existed in a comfortable balance and danced on the line of light and dark-

Yes. His poetic antics were rubbing off on her, and she had to shake her head with a light sigh and a quiet snort of laughter to free her mind of the whimsical thoughts.

Besides, it seemed like she did not need to think about her husband, now that she could see him entering the study, carefully gripping a pristine white cup and saucer in his hand. Lysithea removed her eyes from the frost-nipped window to peer curiously at the cup in Lorenz’s hand. Her books and papers were stacked neatly upon the desk she was seated at, the flickers of warm fire lighting up the walls of the library within the Gloucester Estate, her usual haven in the sprawling manor. 

Lorenz always seemed to know where to find her, though Lysithea was well aware that it was not too hard. Libraries were her favorite places, surrounded by books and history and tales of magic and mayhem. Though, his entry this time was joined with the clear offering he seemed to have. Lysithea could tell by the small flash of anticipation and excitement in his eyes that he had something to share with her.

“You certainly look comfortable.” His voice was clear as always, smooth as the silken shirts he wore even in his own home. He placed the cup of steaming...something, down on the side of the long desk, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. Lysithea leaned lightly into the embrace, comfortable with the soft affection in the privacy of the library. Her lips tilted upwards as she rolled her eyes.

“I am. I was just looking at all the snow outside. I feel bad for all the cows.”

“Do not fret. They are hardy animals, and the farmers always seem to read the weather with a keener sense than most. They’ll have been brought into the barns. As for us…”

Lorenz’s delighted words seemed to pause for a moment as he eyed the lanterns lining the wall of the old library. He lifted his hands, and Lysithea watched with a tremor of delight as fiery light swelled from his fingers, swooping past the lanterns and sending their weakened flickers into fruitful flames. Suddenly, the library was much brighter, and Lysithea sighed out her appreciation.

“That’s much better. I would have done it myself, but I like watching you do it.”

“You will be pleased to know then, that I adore performing for your satisfaction. But, we’re digressing. Lysithea, you simply have to try this.”

Lysithea watched him move back towards the cup he placed down, urging it lightly into her own hands, calloused from magic and writing. She relished the warmth coming from the cup, and immediately brightened as she smelled a rich and sweet aroma coming from the contents.

“Hot chocolate!” She held herself back from keening with delight, a light blush adorning her cheeks. Oh, he always knew how to make her lose her controlled composure. Sweet foods and drinks were her greatest weakness, after all. She clutched the cup tightly, breathing out.

“Thank you, Lorenz.”

“This one is special, Lysithea. With the last harvest of spices for the past season, some of the culinary workers in the upper houses have started experimenting with different flavors. Of course, chocolate and milk are the primary ingredients, but this particular cup has more to offer.”

Lysithea inwardly found herself humored and enamored by the hint of excitement that filled his voice as he explained. He could spend hours describing the different feats and techniques his people had mastered in the arts of agriculture and culinary finesse, and certainly in the wonderous world of sweets and desserts. But, it was not the content of his words alone that intrigued her. It was the genuine warmth and pride and love he had for the people he led and worked to protect that made her listen with reverence.

All people, noble or commoner. Lysithea knew Lorenz had no distinction between the two now, when it came to his care for them. Knowing that, Lysithea felt a tremor of pride all her own, for her husband and for how much they both had matured.

Lysithea focused back on the cup in her hands, excitement filling her at the prospect of drinking the sweet mixture. She didn’t even wait for him to give further instructions, or ask what exactly was in it. With a press of her lips to the cup, and a tilt of her hands, she sipped deeply.

At least, she tried to, until the heat rippled sharply across her tongue and lips. Feeling brutally embarrassed, Lysithea pulled the cup away quickly, swallowing the tiny amount she had sipped down as she gave a noise of complaint.  Lorenz was quick to balk and widen his eyes, seeming to be caught between concern and exasperated humor, before concern quickly won out. He gasped out.

“Oh, Lysithea! Don’t just tilt it back and drink it down like that! Are you alright?”

“Agh! I’m fine, it’s fine!”

Scarlet danced across her face as Lorenz seemed to pace around her, lifting his hand up in offering of White Magic. Lysithea shook his hand away gently, shaking her head.

“No, no. It’s fine, Lorenz. I admittedly did drink that too fast…”

Suddenly her eyes widened as she registered the flavors that kicked back into her mind. Now that the initial sting of the hot liquid had faded, she could chase the aftertaste of her first sample of the drink. _Goddess above, that was heavenly_. The sweetness of the chocolate chased by the tang of fresh cinnamon, and soothed by…

“Is that vanilla?” She asked, knowing immediately that she guessed correctly by the satisfied nod of her husband. He seated himself in one of the chairs by a nearby desk, crossing his legs daintily as he watched her reaction.

“It is indeed. While I’ll get back to scolding you on the art of checking the temperature of a drink before you sample it-”

That earned him a harmless swat towards his arm from the fiery Gremory, and he continued with a dodging motion and a twinkle in his violet eyes.

“They’ve added cinnamon and vanilla. I personally find it to be a very simple but very effective combination. I simply had to have some made just for you. I take it that you like it?”

Lysithea pulled the cup back up to her lips quickly, this time drinking it in more carefully. Her eyes closed and she nearly groaned with satisfaction. It tasted like heaven, like sweet perfection, and she knew she would finish the cup far too quickly. She sighed her approval.

“I should have married the person who made this perfect drink”

Her small smirk was hidden by the rim of the white cup as Lorenz’s face twitched in a pout, before he seemed to pull back his sense of humor. He tossed his hair lightly and tilted his head away.

“Hmph. I shall wish you a happy new marriage then.”

“You big baby.” Lysithea scolded, with no venom to her voice. Instead, she gave him a pointed look and nodded.

“You need to tell them to put this recipe out to the markets. I guarantee you it will be popular.” She placed the cup down on the desk once more, this time making the initiative to stand to her feet and saunter over to her husband. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss of her own to his cheek, before leaning back and humming.

“Thank you for letting me be your official taste tester. I give it full credits.”

“Oh? Shall I call you Professor now, my dear?”

His voice danced with a soft sense of banter, and Lysithea could only contemplate the words while he lifted his hand to brush the skin of his cheek where she had kissed him. She always found it endearing to watch him do that, as though cherishing it as it lingered.

“Professor. That has a nice ring to it, actually.”

“Would the professor require some more to drink then?”

“That goes without saying!”

  
  



	3. Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usually when her voice rose in pitch with sympathy and urgency, Lorenz took it upon himself to tend to her desires and inquiries. Yet, this time he was convinced that she was trying to kill him. Murder him from the inside out with her big eyes and her stubborn decisiveness that drew him in.
> 
> It wouldn’t work this time. No, it would not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Cats!
> 
> Lysithea likes cats, don't @ me. And black cats are amazing, don't @ me again.

“There’s two. One male and one female. They’re black cats too, but those superstitions are idiotic anyway!”

Usually when her voice rose in pitch with sympathy and urgency, Lorenz took it upon himself to tend to her desires and inquiries. Yet, this time he was convinced that she was trying to kill him. Murder him from the inside out with her big eyes and her stubborn decisiveness that drew him in.

It wouldn’t work this time. No, it would not.

“Lysithea. Think rationally about this.”

“I did. I have taken into account every single variable in this situation, and have come to the conclusion that these two cats belong in a nice, big and warm estate in Gloucester territory, preferably the one we currently reside in.”

Lorenz released a light sigh, peering at the two balls of black fur that were clutched carefully in her arms. She held them in such a manor that brought a strange emotion to his chest. Longing? Interest? There were many feelings he still spent long hours deciphering as they unfolded within him. Aspects of thoughts and social interactions that he was still learning, still striving to understand in the ways the rest of their peers seemed to.

Something about seeing her holding such small and helpless animals in such a manner brought along a new kind of emotion. Even so, there were still logistics upon such a matter. One of course being the fact that cats were…

Not his preferred choice of a companion. That was not to say he disliked the animals, as there had been many friendly and aesthetically pleasing felines back at the monastery, but cats always seemed to make messes, leaving their fur and claw marks everywhere they went. Lorenz would admit that he had always had a faint inclination that he may even be allergic to felines, though that may have also just been another of Claude’s pranks to make him sneeze and cough back when they were younger.

Unsurprisingly, he favored horses far more than cats or dogs, but he had plenty of the majestic animals on beck and call. Certainly his beloved Rosaline, the thought of his black mare bringing a sense of comfort to his heart. He quickly pushed the thoughts aside though once Lysithea’s determined eyes locked with his.

She continued, surprising him with the sheer sense of duty and determination in her voice on the subject.

“Cats are incredibly helpful animals. They hunt mice and other pests and require far less to care for than other animals. Besides…We’ve got all this space and only us two to fill it.”

There was a change in the tone of her voice that forced concern into Lorenz’s mind. The fiery determination seemed to morph into a longing. That much he could understand rather easily. She seemed to pull the kittens closer to her, cradling them as if they’d disappear if she let go.

Lorenz wanted to argue. He wanted to remind her that they were both busy, that having two kittens was still a responsibility reserved for the two of them if they wanted to truly bond with the animals.

And yet, all of the logistics and hesitance held no candle to the fact that this seemed to mean alot to his wife. If there was one thing he had learned in the past years, through genuine companionship and the brutalities of war, it was that there was no shame in relenting, if it meant granting others their due happiness. 

He took a breath, steadying his resolve and turning his shoulders to face her.

“Where did you find them, Lysithea?”

Lysithea turned her head slightly, as though tracing back her memories in an invisible spot beside him. Her voice was firm, but Lorenz could detect a trace of bitterness. Not at him, heavens no, but at another party.

“They were alone, shivering in an alleyway near the market. I was looking for another book for my research this morning in town and I saw them there. I hate it.” 

A fire blazed in her rosey pink eyes, and Lorenz could only watch with a swooping heart as she grunted out sharply.

“There was no sign of a nest or a mother cat. So I’m betting they were dumped and left behind. How can people be so cruel?...Whatever.” She shook her head heatedly, and held the mewling kittens closer to herself once again.

“I refuse to leave them behind to die, and I know if we are capable, then we have a responsibility to all in our territories. And that includes animals too. I know, they’re still a responsibility, but that’s nothing we can’t handle. This place is massive anyway. I think it can house two kittens, don’t you?”

Ah. She was certainly putting her foot down. He knew Lysithea well enough that once she put her foot down, there was nothing one could do to stop her from succeeding in her goals. Though, she did not need to, truly.

Each moment that passed, with the squealing kittens secured warmly in Lysithea’s arms, was a moment that Lorenz was genuinely looking at what was in front of him. Goddess above, he hated to admit how weak-willed he could be at times, but his arguments died on his tongue at the immense affection she held for the animals. Affection that would almost put Marianne to shame in its strength and dedication. 

“I suppose it is only wise to consider the positives of the situation.” He started, already knowing she could detect the relenting in his heavy sigh. The sign that she had persuaded him as she usually was capable of doing. Seeing her eyes brighten and her head lift with satisfaction was worth more than some shedding on furniture or claw marks on drapes. Such trivial matters in comparison to Lysithea’s happiness, he decided.

“If we are to keep these felines, I only request that we at least give them proper names. And that they be suited for hunting mice...and you're only winning this debate because you have sound logic.” He grimaced at the thought of the pests taking refuge in the centuries old estate. It had happened before, though usually the staff were good at warding off the creatures with their magic.

Lorenz supposed it was only fair to lighten some burdens by assigning the job to natural predators instead. He also supposed that the brightening of Lysithea’s mood certainly made his agreement all the more meaningful. And it really was sound logic, after all.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She nodded, gently holding out one of the kittens to her husband. Lorenz blinked, inspecting the kitten for a moment before lifting his hands to take it from her. He held the animal close to him, instantly feeling his mood shift along with hers. He felt his resolve soften as he truly looked upon the writhing kitten. Lysithea held her own proudly, speaking with the intelligent decisiveness he loved so deeply.

“Since there’s two of course, I think we both should name one. This little one.” She held up the male kitten, scratching under his chin gently.

“His name is Raven.”

“It sounds like you’ve planned this out, have you?” Lorenz couldn’t help but inquire with a humored lift of his delicate brow. Lysithea did not answer the question, instead preferring to shoot her husband a challenging glance before her facade finally broke and she allowed herself a moment to smile.

“Of course you did.” He assured, knowing he was not one to be wrong often. No matter what anyone else believed...most of the time. At least half of the time. Surely that was a significant number of times for-

Names. Right, returning to the topic at hand.

“Well, if you are so inspired to name a cat after a bird, I may as well follow suit…” He eyed the she-cat in his hands, his fingers as delicate around her as they were around Thyrsus, or when they rested upon Lysithea’s skin. He found it difficult to look away from the kitten, rubbing his thumb softly along the black kitten’s scruff. His mind swarmed for a moment before he nodded slowly with decision.

“Rook. I believe that suits her.”

“Leave it to you to find a name that matches both the theme and the first letter. Raven and Rook. I like it.” Lysithea’s snarky tone was laced with clear appreciation at his willingness to accept the kittens into their home, and instinctive affection for the creatures she had saved with a heart of empathy. Lorenz was well aware that she would have been ready to defend her stance on the matter for as long as it would take, though...

It was far more satisfying to latch onto her speeding thoughts and desires than it was to try and pull them towards his own. In that way, she had always been able to inspire him to understand others beyond himself. To appreciate aspects of life that he had once believed were not worth his time.

He gazed down at Rook, before lifting his head once more to lock his gaze upon the sight of Lysithea cooing over Raven’s paws and ears. The simple sight of her being so _alive_, so _comfortable_, so _affectionate_ after the years of torment forced upon her, brightened his heart and satiated his worries.

What were some clawed drapes and strands of fur in comparison to Lysithea’s smile anyway?

  
  



	4. Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boisterous, loud and brimming with energy. This wasn’t usually Lysithea’s preferred setting to be in, though by now she had come to accept the dynamic that her former classmates had built after years of companionship. Besides, it was a celebration after all! Even she had to let herself loosen up if not for the sake of the man of the hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Gathering!
> 
> Little bit of a heads up, this chapter contains a smidge of angst, but I promise these goobs get very happy endings, for later fics in the future. There's some Claude x Byleth here, and now we get to see the rest of the lovely Deer! As per usual in my fics, Byleth and Claude rule a United Fodlan and Almyra together, so there's that too! 
> 
> As always, enjoy!

“You’re kidding! There’s no way that happened!”

Boisterous, loud and brimming with energy. This wasn’t usually Lysithea’s preferred setting to be in, though by now she had come to accept the dynamic that her former classmates had built after years of companionship. Besides, it was a celebration after all! Even she had to let herself loosen up if not for the sake of the man of the hour.

Hilda was always able to dictate the conversation with her powerful voice, as well as her bone deep connection to the man who was able to celebrate his birthday with them rather than in Almyra. Lysithea watched them with silent mirth, as the rest of their little group surrounded the table in Claude and Byleth’s mountain estate. 

“Oh Hilda. Would I ever lie to you?”

“Yes! You would!”

That earned some knowing snickers from Leonie and Ignatz, who were perched comfortably in their chairs with Raphael centering between them. Beside Ignatz on his other side, Marianne was covering her mouth with her hand, a chime of laughter escaping her. Lysithea admired once again how courageous the once shaky and shy woman had become. How sure and strong Ignatz had become as well. It was at times like this, when she realized how deeply she cared for the older men and women in this room. 

For a moment, she was reminded of her once large family, of giggling brothers and sisters and worn yet satisfied parents, full of love, full of jovial life. The memory warmed her as much as it tore into her heart. It was fulfilling to be able to feel this sense of family again.

Leonie pitched her voice in, rasped with leisure and roughness, a token of her rugged lifestyle.

“So. You’re telling us that you shut down an entire underground Wyvern fighting ring in Almyra?”

Lysithea watched Claude lean back in his chair, in the least kingly manner she could imagine. It was still so hard to think of him as more than the leader of the former Alliance, let alone King of entire continents. He still was his same suave and scheming self. Lysithea supposed she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I may have also had some assistance from a certain monarch of a certain continent who also just so happens to possibly be my wife. It’s a possibility.”

Byleth was unmoving at his side, though her eyes danced with a sort of secretive humor that Lysithea was well aware she had picked up from Claude and the rest of them along the years they spent together. The Queen’s eyes flickered over to Lysithea’s side as Lorenz finally seemed to find his voice and jump into the conversation.

“You! That way why you were not available for meetings or reports during the Lone Moon! Here I was assuming you were handling matters in Riegan territory!...Ah, I suppose by now I shouldn’t be surprised by such antics.”

“Come now, Lorenz.” The glimmer in Claude’s eyes were easily recognizable, a sort of banter reserved for her husband alone. Lysithea would never truly be able to understand the dynamic between the two men, but she did know that Claude never gave up an opportunity to rib at the violet-haired nobleman. Seemingly, Lorenz never gave up the opportunity to lunge right back.

“It was for a good cause. Freeing innocent Wyverns from harsh captivity. They don’t belong in illegal rings. Surely you can forgive your Queen for taking some time to help me out.”

Had the conversation taken place 6 or so years ago, Lysithea would have anticipated that Lorenz would shoot of some fancy response shrouded with sour judgement of Claude’s character. Their banter would have been harsh, and hurtful, and would have grated at Lysithea’s ears and heart.  But now, with all eyes turned to Lorenz, Lysithea lifted her cup to drink the sweet wine they had been given as Lorenz instead responded with a smooth toss of his eyes. His voice was not harsh though, rather knowing and sarcastic instead.

“Noble cause indeed, though perhaps alerting us to your causes more often may one day be on your agenda?”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?”

Claude’s jovial response was met with another chorus of snickers and scoffs. Lysithea watched her husband shake his head, before he drank from his own cup, downing the wine easily. She could tell he was exasperated as he usually was when he spoke with Claude, but his attention was quick to switch to Marianne as the soft spoken healer chimed in.

“Well, I think all that matters is that the Wyverns were rescued. I’m very relieved to hear that. I can’t believe people would do that…”

“Some people are pieces of shit, simple as that.” Leonie’s bold statement inspired Lysithea to lift her cup lightly as she nodded her agreement.

“I’ll drink to that.”

The moment the words escaped her mouth, Lysithea knew exactly what Claude was going to say. The Almyran King shifted in his seat and met her knowing glare with an innocent grin. She felt her fingers coil the moment he chuckled out.

“Lysithea! Aren’t you a bit too young to be drinking? How can I possibly condone such behavior in my home?”

“I’m 21! _Twenty. One._ Nearly 22! Claude, birthday as it may be, don’t think for a second that I won’t blast you with magic right where you stand!”

Instantly the table was lightened with laughter as their usual antics sprang back up. Even Lorenz was smiling a bit, though Lysithea could feel his hand brush against hers under the table, twining his long fingers over hers in a silent and calming motion. She knew that he was aware of her disdain for being treated like a child, but she also knew that he was aware that she was no longer as furious about it as she used to be.

In a way, it was reassuring to know that even with the passing of time that the people she cared for were not leaving anytime soon, and that they remained the same, even as they changed in their own ways. Lysithea moved her hand to lock her fingers with Lorenz’s, relishing in their secret affection away from prying eyes and snickering lips. 

She could practically feel the calm Blue Sea Moon winds as they caressed the glass windows, and yet the atmosphere of the room was far more energetic than ever. Her heart soared as their former professor and current Queen garnered full attention of the room with a simple lifting of her hand. Byleth stood up, scanning the the table.

“It’s so good to have you all together with us again. Claude and I were adamant on spending this day together with all of you.”

Claude nodded.

“It’s the first birthday I’ve had in years that wasn’t sullied by War. The first one we’ve all been able to be together for. I’m hoping this can be the case for all of our birthdays. Call me sentimental...but I think you all deserve such celebrations. It does mean alot to me, that you all are still here. That you still come running when we call.”

“Always.” Raphael interjected, swallowing down another chunk of meat with a satisfied sigh. The large man beamed with his usual vibrance, speaking as though explaining the most simple problem in the world.

“We’re family. There’s no way we’re gonna miss a party for you, Claude.”

“Yes.” Ignatz voiced his agreement, the quick footed artist and archer joining in on the affirmation of loyalty.  “Raphael is right. In any way we can, I’m sure we would all gather together when we’re called. We’ve come this far because of the bond we share.”

Hilda’s voice cooed with both teasing and adoration.

“Ohh! That’s so sweet, Ignatz! But! Speaking of families!”

Oh no. Lysithea knew that tone, that look, that sparked in Hilda’s eyes, mischievous and utterly, unbearably innocent and sweet. She truly was Claude’s right hand, looking like that. She was peering between her and Lorenz, before doing the same to Claude and Byelth.

“Any plans of sorts for the woefully married couples?”

Lysithea knew good and well that Hilda was aiming to fluster them, and perhaps for Claude and Lorenz it was working, but rather than any kind of embarrassment, Lysithea could only feel a cold tremor of nerves. She maintained an affronted façade though, for the sake of her friends.

“That is the kind of information we will tell you when it happens, don’t you think?”

“Yeesh, Hills, give us a break!”

“We haven’t thought about it all that much…”

“Byleth!”

“What, Claude? It’s a genuine question. Besides, if Hilda is so keen on personal information, she can be more than welcome to hear the detailed accounts of how you and I-”

Lysithea stopped listening at the same time Claude pressed his hand to Byleth’s shoulder and coughed meaningfully. The rest of the Golden Deer seemed to be watching the conversation with either humor or surprise...and yet Lysithea could still only feel a coil in her gut and a twist in her chest.

“Honestly, you would think Hilda would have more tact by now than to-” Lorenz had leaned down to quietly vent his growing exasperation, though his statement cut off abruptly. Lysithea realized then that she had tightened her fingers around his far too tightly, and that her hand was visibly shaking. There was no prelude, no sort of hesitation from her husband, as he moved his other hand under the table to grip the top of her trembling hand lightly.

A knowing look filled his eyes, and Lysithea could only take in a deep breath as his voice rumbled past her ears.

“You’re alright...She meant nothing of it. You are alright, Lysithea.”

The rest of the group were still focusing on Byleth and Claude as their banter resonated through the dining room. Lysithea was immensely relieved. She wouldn’t be able to live it down if they had taken notice of her sudden anxiety. It wasn’t their fault, she knew. Lorenz was right, Hilda had meant nothing of it.

Hilda could not have known of her aching fear of the chance she could never have children. Even now, it was still unsure just how much of her body had been taken and destroyed by the mages. She had been too afraid to even try, even as she yearned for it. She knew she was younger, that children were not required for any marriage...and yet the prospect of having a large family of her own once again? Of living that part of her life she had always been told she’d never get to see? The thoughts had always pulled at her heart, even if she would not admit such things so openly.

She did not want to answer Hilda’s teasing question, because she genuinely did not know the answer for once. It terrified her, to not know the answer to that question. 

Lysithea’s grip around Lorenz’s hand relaxed after a few seconds of his soothing whispers, hidden away from the ears of others. She knew the thoughts would not leave her tonight, but she also knew that Lorenz understood her fears. So long as he was near, she would find her center. She would be alright.

“Change the subject, Lysa. Take control of the conversation. They will listen. They always will.” Lorenz offered quietly, his hands still pressed gently to hers. Lysithea allowed his words to ring in her mind, overtaking her worries and replacing them with confidence. It was a conversation she knew they’d have afterwards.

But this was a gathering, and this was Claude’s celebration. This was the family she had now, and that would be enough. She took a breath, before steeling herself and grasping at the attention of her friends.

“If you all are done bickering like children, I personally would like to know how you managed to break down an entire illegal organization in one day.”

Claude’s attention swooped back to her, and luckily it seemed Hilda’s did too. The King began his long-winded and playful retelling of the mission, and Lysithea found herself relaxing once more, confident that the conversation would not be so taxing again.

She hoped Lorenz knew, and she planned to tell him even if he did, that his simple words and presence had calmed the cresting waves within her. She kept her hand securely in his under the table, and thanked him with a silent squeeze, before listening to the chortlings of the Golden Deer around her.

This family was enough, for now.


	5. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One. Two. Three.
> 
> Breathe in. Breathe out.
> 
> The flame is controlled by the heart, manipulated by the mind. Strengthened by the spirit. What makes you jovial? What makes you livid? What dictates you, motivates you? Carry it, build it, revel in it. Draw it in.
> 
> Let it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: Fire
> 
> Admittedly this is partially an indulgent oneshot about personal headcanons on magic, at least in Three Houses. I do adore the idea of different kinds of magic having different types of effects, empowered by different emotions or thoughts or actions. Personally, I always make Lorenz a Mage, beyond that a Dark Knight. He is a lancer of course, but beyond that I feel he has a much more personal connection with magic, fire and light based magic of course. His Crest is magic-based too, as is his relic. I feel like it is meaningful to him, just as it surely is for Lysithea and her own kinds of magic.
> 
> I'll stop rambling, because these two need deep philosophy and warm fire moments. Enjoy!

_ One. Two. Three. _

_ Breathe in. Breathe out. _

_ The flame is controlled by the heart, manipulated by the mind. Strengthened by the spirit. What makes you jovial? What makes you livid? What dictates you, motivates you? Carry it, build it, revel in it. Draw it in. _

_ Let it out. _

He repeated the age old mantra in his head. Each time he came here, stepped outside the manor walls and found himself surrounded by stream and stone, he was able to envision himself back to his first lesson. The same place, the same time of the day...the same faint chill of the Wyvern Moon. The only difference was the presence of instructors and tutors that had long since passed or continued on with their lives beyond tutoring a young noble child.

Had it really been over 15 years ago, when he had tried to summon a shadow of dark energy, a Miasma to please his father’s hopes, only to squeal in agony when fire licked at his fingers instead? He had always prided himself on having a powerful memory.

He had not prided himself though, each time he remembered the frustration of trying to make darkness out of light, shadows out of flames, and failing each time. He had eventually expressed enough raw power to encourage his father to hire tutors for fire-based magic instead. Though, now he knew much better, and knew it would have never truly appeased the man.

Lorenz loved fire. He loved it as fiercely as he had once hated it. For once he had gained control of that flame, had felt the twining sparks of his body’s magic connect with the hungry tendrils of the Gloucester Crest...

He had felt complete. He had felt truly, genuinely alive, at home within his own body.

He still did. Each time he maneuvered through the gardens to his sacred spot and trained himself under the gaze of invisible superiors, he felt a sort of freedom that he could only describe through his body, his actions. Words would never do it justice, as much as his poetic spirit had tried countless times to say otherwise.

This session was special in another way though, as they had been for the past few times he had been able to take time away from proposals and meetings and reports to hone his battle skills.  Lysithea’s calculating eyes followed his movements from the other side of the stony clearing. The rushing of the hillside stream behind them did nothing to distract him from his magic, or his wife’s inspecting glances. 

Lorenz had always strived to perform his best for anybody who was willing to inspect upon his abilities. Though, past onlookers of his youth had been stern, their gazes holding no sense of fun or an artisan’s sense in the form of magic. Controlling such magic was not child’s play. It was not to be taken lightly, not to be praised at every moment when all it took was one moment of frustration or disruption to set the fields aflame. 

It wasn’t until Byelth, and later Lysithea, had taken it upon themselves to monitor and improve his training that he had genuinely felt he was improving, at least for a viable purpose. He held no bitterness for his mentors growing up, and yet he had never been close to them as well. Had never connected to them beyond a shared talent in controlling light and fire.

So it felt enlightening, rather than shameful, when Lysithea’s voice piped up, expressing her concerns and opinions on his forms.

“You know, I think you’d get a better range if you extend your arms further. Of course, extending them too far will strain your form, but...Hm.” She tapped her chin idly, brimming with talent and observation of a seasoned teacher. Lorenz was truly convinced she would make an incredible professor one day, once she completed her research alongside Hanneman. 

Lorenz allowed himself to loosen his stance, drawing in a few breaths as he felt the last buzz and ember of fire fizzle out of his hands. The bursts of fire he had released dissipated into the cool air with a soft hiss, the stone he had trained them on scorching once again under the burning abuse of the nobleman. 

“I am but your humble pupil this evening, Lysithea.” Lorenz reminded her, a few strands of his hair escaping the carefully crafted bun he had pulled up before coming out. He eyed the strands with a flicker of annoyance, pulling at them rigidly and returning them back in place as carefully as he could. His disdain for messiness may have seemed counterproductive to many in this situation, but he still had standards and strived for a composed appearance.

He was not cross for long, as Lysithea’s sudden revelation pulled his attention away from his hair and back to her.

“Oh! I’ve got it! Try that same stance, but with a Ragnarok spell instead.”

“I...do not usually mix up forms, Lysithea.”

“I know. But this time, I want you to trust me. I think it would work out. All you have to do is guide the spell out of your right hand instead of your left one...lean your foot back a bit more...and then you should be able to support the spell.”

Lorenz had come to learn that Lysithea was not the kind of person to deal with someone giving up before they gave something a chance. He had known her long enough to also know that she took her own training seriously. Even without a crest enhancing her magic anymore, she was still skilled and versed in various forms of magic. Lorenz did not envy her of course, for he was far above ever envying his spouse, but he did feel a sense of deep contemplation, at what it might feel like to be able to have such control over different kinds of magic.

He had always wondered what it would feel like, to actually succeed in creating that Miasma his father had urged him to so long ago. Or what it would feel like to guide lightning or ice through his hands. Was he capable of such feats, now that he was older and wiser?

He shook the thoughts away sternly, focusing back on his task at hand. He owed it to Lysithea to listen and take her words into consideration. She had done the same for him so many times, after all.  Moving his body, he planted his foot back farther, twisted his torso, and guided his arms out in a mock movement of what he assumed she was looking for.

“Like such, my dear?”

Lysithea quickly hopped into action, taking the opportunity to approach his taller from with a look of deep concentration and...humor? Lorenz’s heart thumped a bit quicker as she felt her hands gently yet firmly maneuver his body into the stance he assumed she had imagined in her mind. 

“Like this.” She breathed, ghosting behind him now and hesitating, before lifting to her toes to press a kiss between his shoulder blades. He flushed warmly, his words scandalized but his tone brimming with anticipation. He could practically feel her little grin of satisfaction at making him flustered, a rare moment of playfulness in his oh so serious wife.

“Now try it.” She stepped back much to his burning disappointment, crossing her arms boldy over her chest as her face switched back, serious and calculating once again. 

“Get it right and I just might show you some other stances.”

Well, that was certainly a grand incentive. Dipping his head with a twinge of determination, he need not be told twice. He pulled in, focusing on the newly ignited feelings of thrilling anticipation, excitement at the prospect of pleasing her and receiving more of her touches. Her kiss seared between his shoulders, and he drew it in, feeling the magic blistering in his body, from his core and his heart, and out of his veins into the air.

_ One. Two. Three. _

_ Breathe in. Breathe out. _

_ Let it go. _

\----

By the time Lorenz had freshened himself up for the evening, Lysithea had already seated herself comfortably in front of the grand fireplace. The study was bathed in an orange glow, a signal of light in the comfortable darkness. She did not turn to face him, and he knew that she had no need to. He walked over to her side, slowly descending to join her in front of the fire.

The flames licked lazily, and he closed his eyes with comfort as she leaned against his side, her shoulders covered by a thick blanket she wrapped herself in. The stark white hair on her head flickered with fire light, and he found himself just as enchanted by that as he was with the familiar flames in front of him.

“You’re lost in thought, Lysithea.”

“Describe it to me.”

“Hm?”

His faint confusion was evident in his hum, and Lysithea turned her head faintly upon his shoulder, clarifying.

“Your magic. I know we’ve talked about it before, but each time I see you practice with it, I see something different in you.” She lifted her palm, the dense and heavy wave of ghostly magic invading the light of the fire and rotating with a cool hum. 

“I’ve use fire magic before, but it has always been simply for further understanding. I don’t feel it as passionately as I do when I use my Miasma, or Luna spells. I always wondered, back when I had your crest…Did it feel the same way for you?”

Lorenz felt a lump form in his throat. These conversations were always more meaningful than one would typically consider. Talk of their magic, at least to them, was a special kind of conversation. Magic was a part of them, a part of their bodies and their beings. As different as their magic was, the familiarity of it was easy to latch onto, to discuss and to whisper about in theory and in passion.  He felt compelled to reach his hand towards hers, and so he did. He did not reach for her fingers though, preferring to curl his hand outwards. His palm rested upwards, and in the same fashion Lysithea had summoned her sliver of shadows, a spark of light danced upon his skin. Akin to a heartbeat, the youthful flame flickered, before piercing the air with a delicate glow.

“It is like an extension. A burst of emotion from a controlled center. Imagine yourself, in your most dormant state. You are still, you are silent. But inside of you, you are racing with your own thoughts, your own...fears, and hopes. Dreams and values, emotions and passions. When I am hindered by burdens, heavy with sadness or loss, that extension blows away, and there is nothing to pull from. It is unbearably cold, Lysitha.”

Lysithea was silent, listening, absorbing each word in ways he knew she would. She would file it away, contemplate it during her daily activities. Mention it and dwell on it until it stuck to her mind and never let go. She would remember, and she would use it to her advantage. She would satiate the curiosity she would now have for a lifetime, if he had anything to say about it.

“...And when you are not burdened? When you do not feel that heaviness?”

Her inquiry sent a jolt of ecstasy through his veins, simply at the sheer emotion of how it felt to not be hindered by such roiling doubts, to truly feel the sensation of the magic within him.

“It is a flash, a blooming of light and warmth. You gather each moment of joy, each memory of victory and vengeance, and each thought of those you love, and you draw it in, let it go. It blinds you, makes your heart race. It is as if the very sun in the sky has fallen into your hands. You feel…fearless. Alive.”

The fire in his palm suddenly burst into life, extending to slither around his fingers, rippling as though torching his skin. Even so, the fire left no burn, and the thrum of magic wrapped around his skin. The flames clung tightly, even as they left no scar. He felt the roaring of his Crest in his chest, fueling the fire with a storm of hunger.

“And when I activate my Crest, it is as if taming a stallion. It kicks and gnaws at the bit, pulls at the reigns and wants to drag everything out at once. Rather than holding onto the darkness of the magic you excel it, it takes the fire and light within me, and it looks for a way out. And yet, once it is reigned in, tamed and satiated, it follows the flames and the light, and pushes them forwards with a surge of strength…there is pain, at times, too much, too overwhelming at times...and yet once it is released, it feels lighter than air, endlessly bright.”

He pulled his eyes away from their hands, the beating and pulsing flames matching the racing of his heart as he clung tightly to his Crest, commanding it, soothing it. His eyes sparked with light in the dim darkness, and met with Lysithea’s in assurance.

“That is what it feels like.”

The light flickered out, the fire rolling up his hand sweltered down into sparkling embers, before fizzing out. He exhaled, a wave of fatigue filling him, before he registered the steadying touch of Lysithea’s hand to his cheek. Her fingers brushed back a strand of lilac hair that had fallen from his neat style. Tucking it back into place, she sighed with gratitude.

“I can see why you take so well to poetry. It was almost as if I could feel what you felt. It sounds…” Her eyes averted, a sense of longing in them.  “It sounds amazing, thrilling. Good. The same kind of thrill, and strength...but different. Warmer. Had I been meant to bear that in my blood, perhaps I would have felt that too.”

“You make it better.”

Now it was Lysithea’s turn to be confused, peering up at him with a quick snap of her head. He continued on, stating what he felt was obscenely obvious.

“A part of the proficiency comes from the internal emotions I acquire. Even if I may seem collected to an onlooker during battle, it is the thoughts inside of me that drive the magic farther. Being at your side, together with you...I have felt joy and delight like no other. Aspects of love I had never felt, or understood before. Within you, I find strength. I find a brighter light.”

Lysithea’s widened eyes etched into his sharp memory, and he felt a faint trickle of embarrassment at such a bold admission. He knew he could be overly expressive with endearment, but he hoped it had not been too much, too overbearing for-

“I love you.” 

Was all she said, a fond chime upon a wind of meaning. He felt his rushing thoughts scour away at the realization that she held his words close to her. He turned his head slowly, resting it lightly upon the top of her head. Peering into the crackling flames, he pulled her closer, and returned her words in simmering splendor.

“And I, you, Lysithea.” 


	6. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She used to worry about the future.
> 
> Rather than envision a life of adventure or jovial excitement, she had been forced into a state of melancholic acceptance. From her youth, she expected her life to fizzle out like a fuse. There would be light, possibly anticipation and a rush to get from one point to the other, the energy of life…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Change!
> 
> Admittedly, this one is not dialogue heavy, but it certainly is introspective and a study of character for both of them. Warnings for mentions of death and dying, but do not fear! Lysithea will always have happy endings in my writings!
> 
> Also, Lysithea is the big spoon, you can't change my mind.

She used to worry about the future.

Rather than envision a life of adventure or jovial excitement, she had been forced into a state of melancholic acceptance. From her youth, she expected her life to fizzle out like a fuse. There would be light, possibly anticipation and a rush to get from one point to the other, the energy of life…

Once that fuse had burned to its end though, she had expected she’d feel that burst of life, and then wither away into death. She had felt her body wear thin, before she had her Crests taken out of her blood, felt her skin writhe and her bones ache as they weighed down on a body not built to house them.

She had expected to die by the time she reached her 25th birthday. She had expected to lay down in her bed and close her eyes and do nothing but dream about the life she could have lived. She would dream of her brothers and sisters, of seeing them again, and she would cry silently, knowing she would be leaving her mother and father behind. Broken. Childless.

Alone.

She expected to die alone. She expected to be alone, pushing away the bonds she could have built so easily had she just held a semblance of hope, a hope of a cure and a drive to survive. She expected to never find a partner, never fall in love, never marry or have children. She expected to leave nothing behind but a memory.

For years, she had been so terrified. Years after, she had been accepting. She had no choice, after all. She trained and worked and forced herself into her studies for the last thing she could offer of herself. Her magic and her hard work would secure her parent’s security and safety, their peace, after she was gone and dead.

Yes. Lysithea used to worry about the future.

She still did, though it was immensely different now, and she was no longer anticipating her withering demise.

She turned over underneath the soft and silky sheets that covered her, shielding her from the faint chill in the bedroom she shared with her husband. Her husband, who was still sleeping from what she could observe. The sun had not risen over the crests of the sprawling hills outside of the old windows, and thus the room was still darkened.

Even so, she could make out the outline of his body, his back facing her, his sides rising and falling steadily as he slept. His hair hung loosely over his shoulder, revealing the pale skin of the back of his neck to her. She knew not why she had awoken so suddenly, so early even for her typical morning awakenings, but she did not find herself minding all that much.

Lysithea had a lot of thoughts in her mind. She had always been observational, tactical, courageous and quick witted. She had been callous and cruel at times though, certainly during her time at the Monastery. She remembered the insults she had hurled at Ignatz, the remarks she had shot at Raphael.

The snarls she launched at Lorenz, who had been so entwined in politics and the state of the future that at the time she had lost all aspects of patience. She had hated to be reminded of what politics and Crests and noble obsession had done to her and her family. She had blamed each moment of agony on those subjects, and on people who had preached the same songs that Lorenz had.

_ “You’re bullheaded, and boorish. And utterly fixated on the future. All you care about is what’s to come” _

And perhaps she had felt justified at the time to say such things, though it did not stop the twinge of guilt she felt when she had grown older and thought back on the conversation with him. Back then, she had thought his obsessions were born of pompous arrogance and selfishness. A deluded assumption that the Alliance was his to lead, his to boss around.

Maybe that had been the case, back then. Though, coming to know him, to better understand him, she had realized that his words were not born of maliciousness and selfishness. If anything, it was selflessness instead that had driven him.

Selflessness trapped inside the heart of a boy warped and broken by age old traditions, loneliness and expectations. A boy under the thumb of a dreadful man who genuinely was selfish and arrogant, who had murdered the kin of their friends. Who had gotten away with it. Each time she thought of that man, her blood boiled and her nails pinched into her palms.

At one time, Lorenz would have become the very image of his father, had it not been for the Monastery, the War, for Claude and Byleth. For the Golden Deer. For her. The thought made her feel ill, because she knew him now, and knew his ambitions, knew his desires and hopes. Knew that beneath his refined and rigid shell, he was still a boy who loved roses and poetry, who loved all of his friends no matter how he scolded them, who would die for any of his people, no matter their status. 

Who latched on to Claude’s haywire dream of a united and peaceful world and who held on tight with his head held high and faith in his eyes.

He had changed so much over the course of the War. In every way she could think of. Had grown out his admittedly awful hair-cut into a far more elegant style. Had gathered calluses on his hands, lean muscle on his arms and thighs from the workings of a Dark Knight. Had charged into battle without fretting over his appearance, reaching his hands to anyone in need. Had defied his ingrained principals on his own terms, defied his father and had joined beside a man he had once been taught to despise. 

He had listened, when they had all spoken to him, sometimes more harshly than intended. He had listened and he had learned, and he had done it on his own. He softened at the edges, but sharpened upon them as well. He strived to correct his judgements and sought to fulfill his hopes of bringing peace to the Alliance, beyond the hills of his own territory.

He still had his days. He still had moments where he lifted his nose too high, or complained about mundane issues, or lost his patience when he did not need to. Even so, it was clear that when he realized he was in the wrong, he was no longer so reluctant to refuse to see his mistakes. He was quick to try and fix them, to please as many people as he could.

Lorenz had trusted her with parts of himself that not even he had fully understood yet. His honesty and his optimism pulled her from her doubts. He meant what he said, and he said what he meant. He took her hands and danced with her, respected her abilities and had changed, to see her as a woman, as an equal. A friend, and a lover. He laughed genuinely, and lived genuinely, free to lead himself and his people down the peaceful path their King and Queen had inspired in all of them.

He had changed more than anyone she knew. 

She watched his sleeping form with a sense of understanding. Two shattered beings picking up the shards of humanity from glass made of torment and manipulation and choking self-doubt. Still learning to live their new lives, to taste their new freedoms together. That’s all they were.

She had changed too. No longer was she driven by fear and pain. No longer did she despise her own body, doubt her own dreams, snarl at those who simply wanted to care for her. No longer did she lose her temper on a whim, and no longer did she anticipate the death she had felt in her veins as a child.

She had fought wars, saved lives, created everlasting friendships. She had found the person she was going to spend her life with. Her long, wonderful, dangerous, thrilling, exciting life that she was now free to live. She was wiser, studying under Hanneman’s clever eye, healthier without the Crests in her body crushing and pulling at her.

She has changed, and he has changed. They had changed, and there was no going back.

Lysithea shifted her body slowly, reaching her hands out to grasp gently around Lorenz’s middle, pulling at the silken nightshirt and feeling the warmth of his skin beneath. The dip of his side extending to his hip. She settled herself close, pressing to his back and breathing in the faint smell of roses and grass. Her small frame molded against his tall frame, and she felt a sense of strength and courage, knowing she could and would protect him and support him.

She felt his body jump slightly at the contact, his head rolling as a curious mumble escaped him. He shifted his hand after a moment, hazy with sleep, and grasped the arm she had thrown around him. He did not push her away, instead gripping her languidly, and pulling her a fraction closer. He hummed for a moment, before his sides began to regulate, and he fell still and silent with sleep once again.

Lysithea closed her eyes, chasing the fleeing darkness of night as dawn approached. Night changed to day, and they changed along with it.


	7. Verdant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verdant green to ruby red, and all colors in between, the changing of the seasons ushered in a sense of progression. Of warmth and peace entwined with a sense of hope and satisfaction. The stresses of their lives had no place here, bathed in setting sunlight that traced the lines of the rose gardens. Together, they danced, and the season followed suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Verdant
> 
> This has been a fantastic week, and I have loved writing about these two. For those who have enjoyed it, I'm glad to have brought some content to a ship that is lacking it. I love these two so much.
> 
> Thank you for reading this collection, and thank you FE-Rarepair Week for an amazing list of prompts!

Verdant green to ruby red, and all colors in between, the changing of the seasons ushered in a sense of progression. Of warmth and peace entwined with a sense of hope and satisfaction. The stresses of their lives had no place here, bathed in setting sunlight that traced the lines of the rose gardens. Together, they danced, and the season followed suit.

Their dance was unsolicited, unsullied by any watching eyes but their own. The roses wilted their petals, but their rich colors were still remaining, staining the trees upon the edges of the gardens instead. 

Verdant green and verdant winds pushed them along, their steps matched and their hands entangled. He held her tenderly, and yet it was she who led the dance. It was her body that dictated where they were to step and spin. The sunset set her hair aflame, and he felt himself drawn in. A sense of familiarity. A sense of comfort.  They danced, and yet they also spoke, hushed and vibrant, loud and silent at the same time. Words between them, and only them.

“My parents always like seeing you. We can spend some time away from all the politics and pompous nonsense. The last thing I want is for me to live a long life while you die off due to overworking yourself.”

“Mm.” Lorenz hummed with a hint of argument, though his tone was obviously affectionate and understanding.

“So something akin to all your studies? I do still happen to stumble upon you sleeping upon your desk in the library.”

“T-that’s unrelated.” Lysithea turned to spin, her hand reaching up as Lorenz lifted his so she could turn beneath their arms. He pulled her gently along afterwards, their motions trained and sure. They had done this dance so often that it was practically second nature by now. Lorenz could admire the flustered look that crossed his wife’s face as she gave a pout.

“Look. I know there’s always something to do...but I know we’ve changed things, and Gloucester and the other Alliance territories have far better representatives now. I greatly enjoy all the things I can do here, and all the resources and opportunities I have as a commoner of Gloucester, but...I want to be able to show you the lands I grew up in. I want you to feel just as at home in my old territory as I do here.”

“Lysithea…”

She continued on, her eyes burning with meaning and yearning.

“We deserve a good break. Isn’t that what you always tell me, when you think I’ve reached my limits? Well, now it’s my turn to say it.”

She pulled at his hands, leading him into a mutual dip of their bodies, before they stood tall once again. Lorenz could only wonder how deeply Lysithea desired this, if she was willing to admit the need for a break this time. 

He did adore her parents. Their strength and kindness, even towards a man he knew they surely must have related to the mages and nobles that had sullied their lives. They had welcomed him, treated him as one of their own. They had spoken to him in ways that his father never had, had treated him with a kind of care that he had always yearned for without knowing it.

He had made it a point to help Lysithea secure that they would never need to worry, and that they would be able to live out their lives in peace. Visiting them would certainly ease the strain of the politics and pressure of the still newborne treaties and unification processes that Byleth and Claude and all the other territorial leaders had written up.

As much as his mind was pulling at him to remind Lysithea that breaks were not something he could afford anymore, to remind her that the politics of the land were different than the research of the land. His stubborn and headstrong heart had been trained to feel this way, to reach for a sense of fulfillment and his duties before allowing himself any kind of respite.

But the other voice in his head, the newer and calmer and more lenient voice, rumbled in his conscience. Goddess above, nothing sounded better than taking time away from meetings and frivolous territorial disagreements to embrace the calamity of the former Ordelia lands, with his wife and her family. His family, he had decided nearly immediately after he had truly spent time with her parents.

_ We are more than vessels, of exertion and responsibilities. We are better when we allow ourselves to step away from the issue, and return with a renewed state of mind. Do you not want to witness the natural beauty of the Ordelian groves? Do you not want to feel that sense of belonging with people besides yourself? What is stopping you? _

The voice flitted through him, pushing aside the concerns and replacing it with the soft layers of leisure he had developed over the time he had taken over Gloucester Territory and over the time he had fallen in love with his wife.

He blinked once at her, before he moved suddenly, lowering her into the expected dip, watching as a breath of exertion and delight escaped her as they danced. He pulled her back up, relishing the way she fit herself against him. He lowered his head and swayed in the Wyvern Moon wind.

“As unbecoming as it may seem to take leave of my station for a period of time, I will admit...the idea of time spent alongside you without the worries of business sounds quite lovely. Though, I may require some further persuading.”

Lysithea’s grin of challenge signified her understanding of his words, knowing that he was basically agreeing, but desired to hear more of what she could offer. She turned in the dance with him, their shoulders brushing as they spun smoothly in one motion. Lacing their fingers back together again, Lysithea started her well-organized defense.

“We’ll have time for morning walks, of course. I know a perfect place to watch the sunrise. We can invade the Ordelian libraries until they desire to kick us out, to which we’ll just simply remind them that this is a place of silence and learning. Find those books on the origins of history and debate if they’re real or if they’re piles of lies.”

“I do love to debate.”

A swaying of their bodies.

“I wouldn’t have married you if you didn’t. Speaking of married, we can celebrate our half-anniversary.”

Another well-timed spin.

“I was unaware of this planned celebration. Shall I assume there will be plenty of cake and desserts to satisfy our half-anniversary?”

“Yes. Yes you can assume that, Lorenz. I’m so glad you understand.”

He laughed airily, a genuine chime separate from the confident and boisterous chuckle he reserved for public meetings and strokes to his ego. He shook his head fondly, lowering his head down to touch his lips to her cheek. He breathed out.

“I will always strive to understand you, my dear Lysa. I only hope that I have done a substantial job so far.”

He felt her hands reach up to hold around his shoulders, her toes lifting to give herself some extra height so she could speak her words more intimately. Her silver-sheened hair fluttered in the wind, matching his own darker locks. With a snort, he heard her argue.

“I would give you passing marks. Of course, you still have to work on loving cats and sweets if you want to truly understand me. But, I’d say everything else is pretty cut and dry...Hmp. Lorenz. We are here now because you strive to understand me...and I suppose I realized that I wanted to do the same.”

Their dance reverted back to a simple Ordelian waltz, her hands guiding his body alongside hers in a moment of willing loss of control. He felt vindicated, when he could let her lead him, when he didn’t have to lead the charge for once. She continued.

“I want you to see all the trees I climbed. All the streams I played in with my brothers and sisters. I want to take you to all the best markets, to meet all the people you’ve never met before. Even if my House no longer holds power, it doesn’t matter. It will be so nice to just be two people instead of a nobleman and a crest scholar. Don’t you agree?”

Lorenz watched her, his eyes dancing with all the thoughts he had compiled in his head. He could think of lyrics to this winded dance, write out a novel simply by navigating the brilliance and life inside her eyes. The emotion in her voice, the powerful longing, painted a picture in his mind more vivid than even Ignatz could create.

She spoke of her home, and he envisioned it all. It was lovely, splendid, tantalizingly gravitational, pulling him in and along. Yes. They could make do with a break. They could certainly watch the verdant greens turn to vibrant reds, in a house dwarfed by the Estate, with nothing but time and curiosity to guide them.

“Lysithea.” 

He began, finishing the dance with a final dip, holding her still and leaning down to meet her. She leaned forwards and upwards to kiss him, their lips touching for a few moments before the tender connection was slowly severed. Their eyes connected, and he felt his heart swell at the smile that followed his now breathless words.

“That sounds absolutely perfect.”

  
  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Candle, Flickering](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023144) by [mirawonderfulstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirawonderfulstar/pseuds/mirawonderfulstar)


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